Today I woke up and saw people reblogging my silly Saw content with their own silly additions and I was happy
I made myself boba tea instead of my usual coffee and I was happy
My dad ran out of the guitar picks he uses so I gave him some of mine since we both use the same kind and he was happy so I was happy too
My cat cuddled up to me while I was scrolling on my phone in the living room and I was happy
I went for a long walk with my headphones on and stopped at the lake to watch the sunset and by the time I got home it was dark and I was cold but I was happy
I had really good tacos with my parents and showed my dad some songs I’ve been listening to lately and he only kind of enjoyed them but still humored me and I was happy
I sat down after dinner and chowed down on a gala apple while casually reading filthy fanfiction and I was happy
I’m writing this now and I’m happy
Today wasn’t anything particularly special. I woke up at like 1:30 PM and stayed in bed for another hour and stayed in my PJs all day and didn’t do anything productive really but I still had those moments and they were HAPPY moments goddammit
And the day still isn’t over. Maybe I’ll rewatch The Walking Dead with my family or work on the next chapter of my ongoing fanfic or eat some chocolate or hold my cat some more
It really is just the small joys isn’t it
This is how we stay afloat
I’m not sure I could’ve written this a year ago, let alone meant what I’m saying, and it’s not lost on me that this all feels like a second chance after spending pretty much my entire adolescence feeling like happiness didn’t apply to me
I know I’m lucky, and I hope I never stop feeling grateful
I hope I never lose sight of that
I know things will be bad again someday because that’s life but I hope I remember my cat and long walks and good food and being needed in even the smallest of ways and it’s enough to get me through
I want that for everyone, I think.
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The second time I overdosed,
my body couldn’t handle it,
and I threw it all up.
I texted my dad saying,
“I think I took a little too many pills”.
And every time I’ve overdosed,
I always downplay it.
I’ve always tried to act
like it wasn’t a big deal.
That having the urge to swallow a whole bottle of pills
was something daily that normal people do.
My dad hurried home and saw the empty bottle
and he shook me to make sure I was awake.
I kept mumbling “I threw it up.. I threw it up..”
while I was drifting off to sleep.
He had to wake me up every 15 minutes
to make sure I was okay.
Let me tell you now,
it is a big deal.
The third time I overdosed,
I slept through first and second period
and passed out in the counselor’s office.
I didn’t want to go to the ER.
I just wanted to go home.
All I wanted to do was sleep.
Again, I just said,
“I think I took too many pills this morning.”
The fifth time I overdosed,
my dad found the empty pill box.
I hallucinated, I had a fever.
I couldn’t move my legs.
All I could do was scream,
“Don’t take me to the hospital this time.
I don’t want to go!”
I became friends with a girl who had overdosed
she’s one of my best friends now
and when I heard she was hospitalized as well,
it just makes me realize how real this problem is.
A couple months ago, another friend of mine overdosed.
Do you realize how fucked up it is,
that I’ve done it so many times
that I know the exact procedure that she’s going to go through?
She messaged me saying,
“I took a bunch of pills,
but I just realized I didn’t want to die.
I don’t know what to do.
Help.”
And I’m screaming at her over the screen
that she should throw it up and call 911
because sometimes when someone you love
decides that they hate the world,
that’s all you can do.
You can’t teleport through the phone.
You can’t travel through the internet.
You can’t be there to hold them
and take them to the hospital.
Your love is not charcoal that can
absorb all their poison in their life.
I know, love that you would have done all you could.
Sometimes words aren’t enough.
Sometimes love isn’t enough.
Sometimes a person needs to try dying
to know that that’s not really what they want.
There’s nothing you could have done.
You’ve done all you could.
Just keep loving them.
But you see the thing is,
I got lucky.
I’ve made it back from 5 overdoses
without a scratch on me.
But that’s not always the case.
My favorite teacher’s stepdaughter
locked herself in her room and overdosed.
To this day,
her stepmother still has a scar on her heart.
To this day,
on the anniversary of her death,
her stepmother still stays home from school
on the anniversary of her death.
Her sister is in a bad mental state,
and so is her biological mother.
Her family has fallen apart.
You overdose because you think
you will get a peaceful release from death.
It’s not peaceful.
It is not like falling asleep.
It is convulsions, vomiting,
muscle spasms, fevers,
and sharp stomach pains.
An overdose is not instant.
Hollywood has you believing,
that an overdose
is how a lady should exit the world.
As quiet as she came in,
Peaceful and unnoticed.
You will go out kicking and screaming
and wishing you hadn’t taken them
Not mines , idk who wrote this but mad respect & credit to this amazing beautiful real person, I hope you made it
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